


Keep Your Halo Tight

by sweetopheliac



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Alcohol, Blood, Blood and Gore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-05-06 21:57:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetopheliac/pseuds/sweetopheliac
Summary: She was just doing her job. That's what she kept telling herself. But even when playing hero one can drift too far down the rabbit hole and lose sight of the big picture.~A collection of drabbles for my Car Cry 5 Deputy, Angelique.





	1. Sweet Dreams

                For once she actually feels like herself again. It’s been so long since she’s had such a tranquil feeling. Eyes stare up at the heavens above as she lays in the bed of a pick up truck she commandeered earlier in the day. Shotgun rests on one side of her and few bottles of beer at the other. The sound of the radio fills the air, mixing with the typical nature ambience. It’s hard to decipher what’s actually glittering stars or the effects of the bliss. She doesn’t care; not right now. No thought is paid to the blood and grime that clings to her skin nor the bodies of Peggies that lay scattered and hidden amongst the sea of white flowers.

             In this moment she’s not the  _Deputy_  or  _Rook_. No, currently she’s just  **Angie**. It feels so nostalgic. She remembers summer nights when she and her friends would sit in the beds of their trucks, bonfire burning, booze flowing and weed blazing. Laughter had filled the air. Even when they all moved on, she continued the ritual every-once in a while. Pick a spot, chill out and sleep under the stars. Respite won’t last long. She knows that like the back of her hand. Come morning light she’ll be back at it playing hero — the  **MESSIAH**  of Hope County.

_SAVE THEM!_  
                            SAVE THEM ALL!  
                                      **WHY CAN’T YOU SAVE THEM ALL?**

                There’s no reason for that question to flit through her mind. She’s already doing good work. Unfortunately not everyone can be saved. Though she wishes they could be

                                                        ~~IT’S YOUR FAULT.~~

                Ah, but guilt nor worry will sink their claws into her tonight. The bliss has eased her into drifting off to sleep, giving her dreams of flower fields and rivers of starlight. There’s truly no reason to fret. Afterall, she’s the good guy; the knight in shinning armor that will win this crusade. No obstacle will stand in her way of victory even if it’s the last thing she does.


	2. Faith, Trust and Pixie Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's hard to tell what's really real. Sometimes you just have to trust your instincts and take the Leap of Faith.

                  ❝You must have **FAITH**.❞

           Even through the fog that clouds her mind, the words ring clear. This is a high like none other. One minute she’s following the Seed Sister through a whimsical field, listening to her ramble on. The next, she’s soaring through the air;  _**UP UP UP** _ until feet touch the stone book part of the statue of Joseph. Everything feels so ethereal yet unhinging.

       A scream tears through her throat as she watches Marshal Burke step off into the unknown without so much as a care. And now she was expected to do the same.

       Angie pays no mind to whatever saccharine dribble Faith is trying to feed her. Her hopes is that perhaps if she makes no move, no effort to follow through with it that this strung out hallucination will just come to an end.

      That isn’t the case. No matter how long she waits, the bliss doesn’t fade away nor does Faith’s patient coaxing. At some point though, the few words of the Siren that she had bothered to listen to pop back up in her thoughts.

_You must have faith._

               And it’s true. To get through not only this, but every other obstacle she will have to face she does have to have faith — to have hope. Not in the Seeds’ twisted ideology but in the God that she knows. She has to do this; all of this for her comrades, her friends…for all of Hope County.

              So as Faith is babbling on, Rook takes slow but confident steps towards the edge. Eye contact is not made with the other woman. A silent prayer is said right before she takes the leap. 

_God will not let you take me,_   
                                                                                                                               she thinks to herself.  
                                                                                                                             _Not now. Not till my job is done._

               As she falls further down, she can hear Faith excitedly telling her how she’ll give her purpose. Oh she’s been given a purpose, that much is clear. It’s just not one that would inevitably benefit the Seeds nor their God forsaken cult.

              Her body jolts when she's hit the ground. Or when she thinks she’s hit the ground. She’s not too sure if the whole sequence had been real or something of pure imagination. The bliss has thankfully worn off for the most part. Though her mind and body feel so exhausted. There’s an ache that shoots through her muscles when tries to sit up. Frantically she looks around to see if she can find the Marshal or even Faith. It’s to no avail. The only people she sees are the victims that have fallen to the siren song. And while her heart feels heavy that they had to suffer, part of her feel an over whelming amount of  **PRIDE** and gratitude that she didn’t end up the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that read my drabbles! I hope you enjoy it enjoy them.  
> There's no real chronological order to them.  
> 


	3. Let the Water Wash Away Your SINS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eventually everyone must be cleansed of their sins.

She should feel more fear or anxiety in this moment than she currently does. Perhaps it’s bliss that’s got her high as a kite that’s keeping her nerves in check. That’s the most likely case. Yet there’s something that gives her a feeling of solace as she stands waist deep in water.

                John is still speaking but the words sound jumbled up. Her mind can’t seem to focus enough to make sense of them. A flurry of hand motions and a look from him right before her head is underwater. Panic sets in for a brief second leaving her with an aftertaste of tranquility, of  **NOSTALGIA.**

> _She’s eight years old, standing nearly in shoulder deep water as the church congregation watches on. Everyone is dressed in their Sunday best, including her **(**  a new frilly, white dress her mother picked out  **)**. Her family are the ones closest in her range of sight. She notices the mixed expressions on the on looking faces of her brothers; some of boredom, some of neutrality and the eldest wears something akin to a scowl. The roll of his eyes doesn’t escape her gaze. The pastor is speaking and while she listens, it’s hard to focus considering her nerves. She looks from him to her parents. Her mother gives her a warm smile and her father a thumbs up with a goofy grin on his face. When the pastor asks her that golden question, she does not hesitate to say _ _**YES!** _ _Merely seconds later she’s immersed under and brought back up. It’s fast; much faster than she would have thought. Once above surface though, there’s a feeling that settles over her —_ _**WARMTH & RELIEF** . It’s almost as if God himself has whispered some welcoming words of comfort to her. Joyous claps fill the air as she is escorted back onto land. _

                 At last the Peggy holding her under pulls her back up for air. Stars fill her vision as the world seems slightly more distorted. Golden curls and clothes cling to her form, making her look like a drowned rat. A chill runs over her body. She begins to move back towards the river bank with the others, until John stops her.

                   ❝ Not this one…This one is  **not clean**. ❞

                 It’s then he lunges and plunges her back under with the obvious attempt to drown her. It certainly wouldn’t be the worst way to go. There’s a pathetic attempt at a struggle. Her body is too tired, heavy and unwilling to cooperate however. He’s not wrong per-say in both his words and actions. God only knows how many times she needs or will need to be dunked in order to cleanse her of all the  **sin** .  ~~Though no amount of water could ever wash away the blood.~~

                 It comes as a surprise when he actually pulls her back up to the surface. It shouldn’t be really, especially when he makes the move to repeat his previous action. What stops him is a very familiar voice. For once she’s somewhat thankful to be in the presence of  _Joseph Seed_.


	4. Do you remember me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes she forgets there's a world beyond Hope County. She forgets she had a life before this mess. But has she been forgotten?

         Nothing should surprise her anymore. Yet the minute she lays eyes on the so-called wanted posters, eyebrows shoot up. When the hell did they have time to make this shit? Better yet how did they get such a clear picture of her? It’s un-fucking-believable. Next thing you know they’d be putting her face on fucking milk cartons. A hand reaches out and snatches the post from the side of the building, her gaze examining every detail of her printed face. It makes her wonder if her family has noticed her absence. Perhaps not. If anything, they must think she’s run off — abandoned them just like her eldest brother had. If they did notice, maybe they didn’t care. Just the thought of them makes her heart hurt. A quick breath before she composes herself.  **Wrath**  flares up, causing hands to shake and rip the piece of paper into mere shreds.

      Unbeknownst to her, another county is also plastered with posters of her face. An ocean of unanswered and unheard messages fill not only her cellphone but the answering machine that sits collecting dust in her trailer. Search parties have spent weeks checking every corner of her old homeland unable to even get close to Hope County. Her father spews insults, curses and threats to authorities that are no longer willing to listen nor take him seriously. And when he nearly jumps over a counter in an emotional moment, screaming about how he wants his child back, he almost spends a night in jail. Thankfully his ticket out is the pull of his son that too works in that very office. Once again the trending topic of gossip becomes the family. 

>                                _“I hear that Cruze girl is missing.”_  
>                   _“I heard she was a **drunk**. Probably ended up in a ditch somewhere.”_  
>                           _“That family’s always been messed up. It’s not surprising.”_

       Months will pass until efforts are finally, though bitterly, given up. There is no resolution, no  **CLOSURE** . The missing daughter is no longer spoken of. And while the life continues on, it’s obvious how different things feel. Despite it all, they never stopped caring. They never lost **HOPE** .


	5. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We'll meet again  
> Don't know where  
> Don't know when  
> But I know we'll meet again some sunny day
> 
> \---Vera Lynn; We'll Meet Again

At this point she doesn’t know what to think. Bombs are falling, the world is going to shit and all she can hear are the panicked words of her companions. All of it brings nothing but fear to her heart. Yet she has to focus; tune it out and stay strong. They’re so close! They’re almost — !

It seems like fate had other plans. Nothing really registered in her mind until she felt the impact of the crash. Everything hurts. She can’t move though. Perhaps that’s for best. Consciousness begins to fade with visions of the world on fire. There’s humming, but she pays no mind to it — no care at all.

Eyes close and the last thing she feels is her body being shuffled.

When she opens her eyes again she sees nothing but the sky painted in hues of orange and red with the sun hanging low in the sky. Her hand brushes against something; yellow flowers. It’s a whole field of them. Confusion paints her features until she feels her body shift. As her gaze snaps up, a gasp slips past her lips.

              ❝Well good morning, sunshine.❞

Angelique can’t believe the sight. He looks the same as he did almost a decade ago. Black hair still perfectly shaved into a mohawk, thrown up into a ponytail. Brown eyes still hold the warmth and adoration that she remembers from so long ago. And of course all his tattoos are perfectly in place.

        ❝You feel a bit lighter. Been layin’ off the junk food?❞ he teases. Such a remark earns him a playful hit to the chest before they both just laugh. It’s just like the old days.

          ❝I’ve waited for you. I’ve waited a long time.❞ she finally says, looking up at him.

His expression softens. ❝I know.❞ comes his murmured reply. Footsteps have finally come to a halt. ❝I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, baby.❞ With all the care in the world he puts her down under a tree propped up in a sitting position. He bends down to be level with her, hand running through sandy curls.

       ❝That’s okay. I knew we’d see each other again. And now we’re together.❞

At that his motions come to a halt. Hesitantly he pulls his hand away. There’s no hiding the slightest bit of heartbreak on his features. ❝It’s not time though.❞ It’s cryptic. Much too vague for her own liking. Before she can say anything he holds his pinky out to her, to which she takes. ❝We’ll meet again. I promise.❞ There’s a reassuring squeeze. He watches as tears begin forming at the corners of her eyes. He leans over, presses a tender kiss to her forehead and stands. A few steps are taken back away from her. It’s then she notices a group of shadowy silhouettes standing several yards back behind him barely visible. Each different in some shape or form, familiar yet not recognizable.

            ❝I love you. You’ll always be my angel.❞

Panic takes over. However, her body refuses to cooperate. Desperately she tries to get up, to move towards him.

      ❝But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day.❞ he sings. Slowly he starts getting farther and farther from her.  
          ❝Keep smiling through,  
                Just like you always do  
         ‘Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.❞

Other voices join his. The figures begin to grow distant just as he does. It’s as tears begin to stream down her face that her arm finally jerks forward to reach out towards. That only causes pain to shoot through her body. In the blink of an eye it’s all gone, leaving nothing but darkness.

When eyes open again, she immediately recognizes where she’s at — Dutch’s bunker. she goes to move her arms, though quickly finds that she’s been restrained. It’s no different than when this whole mess started. A look to the ground brings about the horror of seeing one yet another comrade fallen. Dutch didn’t deserve this. No one did. And it's all her fault.

The sound of a radio catches her attention. Even in the dim light she knows who’s standing there. Reality sets in, hitting her hard.

There is no Derek, no more Hope County…nothing. There’s only Joseph Seed, her, and this godforsaken bunker.

Nothing can stop the sobs that wrack her body nor the internal agony that fervently eats away at her last bit of fraying sanity.


End file.
